Oh boy, here we go...
Aragorn fell completely silent, allowing me to listen to whatever was out there in the dark. The footsteps were getting closer, louder. They were light, almost inhuman.
"Hand me my swords," I ordered darkly, stretching my hand out to the side.
Aragorn did as I said, but I felt only one sword hilt in my hand.
I tilted my head towards him.
"Where's the other one?"
"I have it."
That pissed me off. Was this man stupid? He was still weak from his illness and he thought he could help. I walked over to him and took my sword back from him.
"You are in no shape to fight, lad." I hissed.
"I want to help, and I'm not a boy, I'm a man. Older than you!"
"No, lad, you're not. Just do as I say! Go get the horse and prepare to run if we need to."
"But-"
"Go!"
He stalked away at my demand, leaving me to focus on whatever was coming towards us. It was then that I felt a feeling of dread come over me like a crashing wave. The feeling shook me down to the bone.
My hands began to shake, forcing me to tighten my grip on my swords.
"Who goes there?" I asked, trying to control the waver in my voice.
"Dúnedain…" a harsh voice hissed.
"Who are you?"
"...where is he?"
"Who?"
The voice laughed menacingly.
"The man."
My eyes widened. This thing knew about Aragorn.
"What man?"
"Do not play coy with me woman! Give him to me and I will let you live…"
We stood in silence for a moment. Until, finally, I spoke.
"I think I would rather die."
With that, I charged at the figure. The thing unsheathed a sword of its own to parry my strikes. We met face to face at the sound of clashing steel.
Up close I could get a better picture of this thing. It was shaped like a man but was covered in robes with a hood covering its face.
Fear still had a grip over me.
The thing shoved me back before swinging at an upward angle for my torso. I blocked the blow with Ithilwen and countered my attack with Anarial.
We traded blows in the darkness of the night, dancing with death under the stars.
The figure was good.
Extremely good.
I whipped myself around with my swords but didn't land a strike. The figure blocked my blow and used its strength to force me off balance. I scrambled to catch my footing and felt the swing of his sword come for my head.
The sword grazed my forehead, slicing through my blindfold.
I staggered backward and cried out in pain.
Why did it sting so much?
I had been scraped before by the sword but this...this was different.
My blindfold slipped free from my face and fluttered to the ground.
The creature chuckled as it stepped forward to finish me off.
"Now, where is he?"
"...burn...BURN IN HELL!" I spun around with Ithilwen ready and managed to cut the monster.
That really disrupted my world.
The creature screamed out a horrible sound. To my sensitive ears, it stung so badly. I fell on my knees and covered them with my hands.
The figure retreated then off into the darkness, screaming as it went.
My ears were ringing and the cut on my forehead hurt so badly.
I could barely hear Aragorn's voice.
